When Stars Collide
by Mysteriol
Summary: Namine's the jaw-achingly gorgeous figure skater. Roxas is the sought-after star player on the Blitzball team. Despite their popularity in school, they've never heard of each other, nor met...Until their lives collide one night. NAMIXAS AU, ch3up.
1. Chance encounter

When Stars Collide 

Jaw-achingly gorgeous, Namine is the figure skater and pride of Twilight Academy. Chiseled-face, toned and chased by the entire female population, Roxas is the star player of Twilight's Blitzball team. A chance encounter one night pushes the fate of these two beautiful people together, causing their lives to collide forever. [ NAMIXAS AU ]

**A/N:**

Disclaimer: I do not own KH or any related materials. They all belong to Square Enix. Any other elements are purely fictional, original or borrowed from other FF series from Squaresoft/Square Enix and misc. external sources.

Possibly multi-chaptered in the future. We'll see. Enjoy (:

* * *

><p><strong>One.<strong>

Somewhere far away on the bell tower of Twilight Academy, the clock struck midnight, and the vibrant orange hues of the sky gave way to darker shades of blue. The Academy was nearly empty now; almost vacant at this unearthly hour. The last of the students were trickling out of campus, chatting softly as their silhouettes disappeared into their dormitories.

A solitary figure set cast against the geometrical patterns of the night sky, sitting upon the bleachers facing the huge Sphere where several male Blitzball players were packing their duffel bags, readying for home. She leant forward, untying her figure skating shoes from her feet, brushing small beads of sweat from her rose-tinted cheeks, and heaved a sigh. Pouring medical oil onto her palm, she soothed the liquid on the new red bruises she suspected would ache for the next couple of days.

Namine stared up at the sky for a moment, admiring the blanket above. She was out later tonight than usual. Her competition was nearing in less than a month, and she had barely gotten her footwork and moves right. It was only right Ms. Granger was yelling so much at her just now for tripping over her feet one too many time. She brought her index finger and thumb together, and traced what constellation she could see ahead.

Her eyes could barely open now.

Three more weeks to her competition. Namine doubted if she could make it.

And her arms – she looked down at her arms. Too bony. Ms. Granger had already warned her far too many times to eat her meals right. If she got too thin before the competition, her lack of weight would cause her to be overly light to nail some of those moves – and she had practiced forever. She didn't want that.

Namine dutifully opened her lunchbox, though she mused how at this hour, she was eating out more from a supperbox then anything. Her dormitory partner and the friend she hung out with regularly in class and after school, Kairi, had prepared her favorite food. Namine shook her head and managed a smile that the moonlight never failed to catch with its rays. Rolls and rolls of tuna sushi stared back at her, chopped delightfully to appeal to her appetite.

_That Kairi. _Namine cheered at the thought of her friend's caring nature.

Her fingers picked one sushi up, and she quietly dug into it.

Far into the distance, the clock struck a quarter past midnight.

The thought of having to stir from her cosy bed in less than six hours for school was painful.

Namine's eyes roamed around the Blitzball sphere stadium. The place seemed almost ghostly at this hour. So different from the crazy, rabid fans that pack this place during Blitzball season and those bi-annual tournaments the Academy would hold. Namine couldn't remember the last time she attended a tournament, or was part of this huge crowd cheering on their favorite team or player. If she wasn't so busy all the time sweating literal tears, blood and perspiration out on the rink. . .

"Roxas, catch!"

Her gaze snatched up. She caught sight of the school's number one heartthrob, Zexion, in the Blitzball sphere, flinging a ball into the random distance. She recognized that gray hair any instance, and had to stifle a small laugh when she remembered how much of a crush Kairi had on him.

Somewhere, she heard a grumble, and then she could almost hear that _scowl _without even seeing it.

"Shut up, Zexion. Haul your ass back into your dorm before Axel locks you out again."

"I know, eh? Goddamn, I swear. Rooming with that red-haired wuss has got to be my worse luck ever." Zexion joked.

Namine squinted her eyes. _That _voice. No, not that she recognized it, but it was so _darn _attractive. And deep.

She couldn't see anyone else in the sphere other than Zexion, slowly walking away into the distance. It was way too foggy tonight. She blamed it on the recent haze falling in the Academy lately. Or maybe she was getting too tired.

"You're not leaving?" Zexion questioned, before that gray-haired boy of every Twilight girl's dream began to disappear into the darkness. Namine did not need to know Twilight Blitzball news enough to understand that dashing man was definitely Captain of the Twilight Blitzball team.

"Nah, I'm staying behind to train for a bit."

She couldn't get over how engrossed she grew over listening to that voice, which went on to tease his Blitzball captain, "It's not like Sora imposes a 1 am curfew on our dormitory like Axel."

"Fuck off, Roxas."

That deep voice broke into a soft laugh.

In spite of herself, and for the fact that she was way too far away to even see Zexion haul his middle finger into his teammate's face, Namine bowed her head and laughed. She covered her mouth, muffling her giggles.

_Roxas. So that's his name. _

It was stupid to say the last. She hadn't even seen his face. And she had never been a believer of this so-called love at first sight theory. Kairi was a self-professed sucker for that. But Namine was the practical, logical one, and the platinum-blonde haired girl knew reality had no room for fairytales and sugar castles like that.

Yet, she couldn't forget the way he spoke, and then laugh.

In that voice, she sensed a boy who was too aloof and sure of himself for anything. Quietly confident, introverted…and despite of the way he had teased his Captain, she could pick up that tone of admiration and awe he held in place for Zexion.

She kept her eyes glued to the sphere, and then the silhouette began to appear, and take form.

Blonde-hair, a darker tone than hers. But blonde all the same. Blue eyes.

_My god, _those eyes.

And toned muscles. That frame.

She forgot the chopsticks in her fingers. The sushi she was chewing in her mouth ceased to be finished. Her appetite diminished. Her pains on her legs and feet, and the bruises on her arms, her skating shoes on her side – all meant nothing, like zero gravity, when she set eyes on that silhouette now slowly materializing in front of her, in that empty Blitzball sphere.

Roxas.

He was breathing heavily, perspiring. Religiously tossing the Blitzball into the net again and again. Repeating his moves. Coming out of the water and sitting on the sideplanks to rest for a couple of minutes when he grew tired.

In those little intervals, Namine's eyes never left that silhouette. Sushi forgotten, she caught sight of those aqua beads tracing down that frame. He had begun to strip down to just his bermudas, the water trickling down his side, further emphasizing his toned abdominal muscles. He wasn't too bronzed or tanned – probably spending most of his practice time under the moon than in the sun, his skin just a perfect, almost unreal ivory shade that couldn't mask his masculinity.

But the way he moved in and out of the water, the way he navigated the Sphere like he knew every curves of the place, like the way he was able to master every ripple of the water, the strength he was capable of tossing the ball into the net, and how each time he managed to dunk it right in was at that perfect angle that could take even the most gifted of Blitzball players hours to hone that athletic skill –

He was amazing to watch. Grossly fascinating.

If it wasn't for the Academy clock tower in the distance that reminded her it was already half past midnight, she wouldn't have been able to snap out of her reverie.

Half-dazed, she finally snatched her eyes away from the Sphere, where he continued to glide like he had been bred in that aquatic place for years. She glanced at the clock tower. My god, she had been unabashedly staring at him for a full fifteen minutes. In her years in the Academy, no other male students had managed to hold her attention for more than even a minute, much less fifteen.

Who was this guy, and what had he done to her?

And it wasn't as if she understood a thing about Blitzball.

Then again, this boy, whoever he was, could have been just sitting cross-legged in the Sphere, and she would still have ended up gazing like an engrossed fangirl at him. Feeling sheepish, Namine dusted the dirt off her skirt, chiding herself for acting way too uncharacteristic tonight. She blamed her tiredness – it wasn't like her at all to let her guard down especially when it came to guys. She was still way too young for her to lose her focus from figure-skating on trivial things like that. She hadn't had the time for distractions.

Boys could wait. Especially boys like. . . this one.

She cast a longing glance back at the Sphere.

He was unceasingly, unfaltering dunking more shots into the Blitzball net.

She had no idea how long he could keep going for.

And he looked _so_ good, shirtless.

_Oh my god, Namine. _Horrified at her thoughts, she literally brushed the blush off her cheeks, and quickly slung her gym bag behind her shoulders, quickly finishing up the last of Kairi's sushi, and packed in the chopsticks. She couldn't believe herself.

_I'm too tired, I'm too tired. _She could really use some sleep. That would explain her uncharacteristic behavior of boy-oogling from a distance tonight.

She threw on her favorite gray oversized sweater. She looked up at the sky. It looked like it was going to rain. It was getting chilly.

But if it started to rain…

As she made her way down the bleachers towards the center of the stadium, towards the Sphere, she wondered subconsciously if Roxas was going to stay drenched in the rain and continued training. She felt the first fat drop of rain fall on her shoulder, and she heaved a sigh. She was lucky Kairi returned her her umbrella in class today. It looked like it was going to pour.

Hair disheveled, trickling all over her heart-shaped face, breathing heavily, Namine hastened her pace, sidelining the Sphere. It took all of her will not to stare back into the Sphere, into those blue, unrelenting eyes, into those toned shirtless muscles, at Roxas.

_Do not stare, do not stare. Keep going, Namine._

The exit to the Stadium was closed. She turned the door knob. No such luck. The janitor probably wasn't used to having such late spectators at night. There usually was another entrance and exit that stayed open overnight somewhere around the corner, but that required a detour through to the other end, going through the Players' locker rooms and then out.

Namine cringed at the sound of her flats squelching against the puddle of rain as she made her way indoors into the Stadium's locker rooms, where during season, male Players would flock the entire place. In her lifespan as a student in Twilight Academy, she had only allowed Kairi and her friends to drag her to a Blitzball tournament once, when she was thirteen. It was crazy, and she had unwillingly followed her friends indoors here, at this exact place, to get the autograph of the Captain who came before Zexion…what was his name? Tidus, maybe.

Namine had to smile a little at those childhood memories. Those adolescent years when she wasn't so involved in perfecting her figure-skating routines were wonderful. Sometimes she yearned for those innocent, childish days again.

She turned on a corner, still disliking how noisy her flats were squishing against the floor tiles.

And then stopped.

_Oh my god, please don't let him see my jaw drop. _

She prayed to the sky that the darkness hid her blush well.

Roxas stood a yard from her, at the other end of the long, narrow hallway. The only source of light from the locker room shone on him, glorifying his defined abdomen for her to stare abashedly, and then look into those blue eyes of his.

She was lost, lost.

Goddamn, he could have put on a shirt.

He squinted at her.

They didn't speak a word.

"The…exit outside is closed." She explained in a hurry, her voice sounding a pale version of her usual confident tone.

He looked at her for a bit, then nodded. He still didn't speak. He turned her back on her, and slung his duffel bag over his shoulders and tucked his Blitzball underneath his arm.

She figured he was going to use the indoor exit as well.

She followed after him, quietly. She cursed at the noisy sound of her flats still squelching from the rain.

"I guess we got to use the other exit." She attempted to converse, then shut her eyes. Oh my god, nobody told her interacting with the male species was this hard. Presenting a project to a thousand-strong crowd in the auditorium was definitely much easier than this one-on-one conversation with a shirtless guy named Roxas.

"No shit." Was the only sentence he strung from his lips before he swung open the indoor exit and allowed them out.

He barely gave her a second glance, about to part ways from her when they were at the exit door, when he caught sight of her skating shoes slung over her shoulders.

He arched an eyebrow. "You skate?"

She shrugged uneasily. "A bit."

He didn't need to know she represented their Academy, and was competiting in the Regionals soon.

"You…Blitz?" She tried again, then realized she was failing at this awkward male and female conversation. If there was a hole somewhere, it needed to swallow her whole now, and fast.

"…A bit." He shrugged. His turn.

She couldn't help it. She came to life the moment he denied it. He was too modest for his own good.

"I saw you out there. You're too good to be playing just 'a bit' for Blitzball." She added. She couldn't help that smile on her face either.

He looked taken aback, caught off-guard.

"You…were watching?"

_Oh my god. Namine. Out. Now. Get out. You and your stupid mouth. _

Namine hastily opened her umbrella.

"I've got to go."

The bell tower in the distance struck a quarter to one in the morning – saving her and her awkwardness.

God, social conversations with a boy like that was harder than nailing a difficult figure-skating routine.

She was lying. If she was really ready to go, she wouldn't have stood there three feet apart from him, still staring lost into his eyes.

He appeared uninterested again, his gaze falling back to his Blitzball. "I don't usually train out here this late." He started bouncing the ball from one hand to another. "But we've got a tournament in four days and I don't want to fail the team again."

_Again. _

He said, again.

So…he was the star player of the Academy's Blitzball team everybody was talking about a month ago when he made the school newsletter headline for missing an important shot and caused them the victory to Galbadia Academy. Even Namine had heard of it.

He was _that _star player.

She didn't know what to say, except the truth. "You'll do fine." She said, her eyes earnest, meeting his in the dark.

She shook his head, her hair falling like waterfall around her pastel cheeks. "More than that. I think you'll shine."

His eyes flickered. Like he wasn't expecting that, again.

It sounded so cheesy, but coming from her…her eyes. He knew she wasn't lying. She was so genuine, it was unbelievable.

He didn't know what to say, except shrugging uncomfortably. Roxas wasn't used to strangers, or girls, standing less than his comfortable metre radius from him. He liked his personal space too much.

"I've got to go." He gestured towards some random distance.

She cocked her head. "The north dormitory?"

"Yeah, I stay there." He brushed a hand behind his unkempt hair.

They were still indoors, but just a distance away from going out into the rain from the indoor exit soon.

"Here, take this," she shoved the umbrella into his hand, "the north dormitory is way too far for you to make a run for it in this weather."

He was a gentleman, she was sure, because he was shaking his head vigorously and pushing it back to her, "No, you—"

She threw the hood of her sweater up, covering her head, "I'll be fine," she pointed to the opposite end, "I stay in the south dormitory. It's closer than you think—"

"But—no, don't-" He pushed back the umbrella in her direction, but she wasn't taking it, and she was turning her back already on him.

"I'll be fine, I won't be drenched at all, don't worry." She started making a dash into the distance, into the rain, with her skating shoes flying behind her back, her oversized sweater blown up by the wind behind her like a cape.

"Wait—No, don't, dammit—" He was about to run after her.

She threw a look behind her shoulders.

He stopped in his feet, staring openly at the smile that came along her look. That earnest, _achingly _beautiful smile that accompanied the glisten of the dropping rain lights and the glow of the moon above. The exact same one that made him stop in his feet. It wasn't just for the fact that he knew she was stubborn, was too caring for her own good to know for the fact she would abandon her life in front of a little girl or boy on the road if a car ever dashed before that kid. It wasn't just for the fact he knew whatever he said wasn't going to make her change her mind of wanting to affect his night like this.

It was also how the way she threw _that _smile, through the rain, that reached him, and rooted him to the spot. Something hit him in the chest like a sledgehammer, and stun him.

"Stay dry, Roxas!"

And she was gone.

Just like that.

Roxas stared down into the umbrella in his hand.

_She knows my name. _

He began to turn on his feet, and opened up the umbrella to shelter himself and his precious Blitzball from the horrid weather.

He spotted the north dormitory in a distance. It would take a couple of minutes to get there. Sora was going to kill him for coming in later than usual, because he probably would be asleep, and Roxas as usual had forgotten to bring the dorm keys, and had to awaken Sora to get the door.

He would worry about that later.

As Roxas began to pick up his pace, the only image he couldn't get out of his head was that face of that strange, random girl who had watched him train past midnight.

And _god_. . .that smile of hers.

He barely knew her, and already had her umbrella with him.

…And he hadn't even gotten her name.

**OWARI/TSUZUKU**

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Whether I am going to continue this and make it multi-chaptered is really up to you guys, hence the indecisive, undetermined Owari/Tsuzuku. If the reviews are optimistic enough and pushes for more chapters, I'll be probably be inspired enough to keep this going on as a multi-chaptered fic if I think this story is worth it. I've been away from writing fanfiction so long, I'm a bit rusty. Good times, good times, though, growing up here in this place.

Again, this piece is solely AU. It means although there are elements and characters borrowed from Kingdom Hearts, other elements are borrowed from some other FF series, etc. or can be fictional. Hence, disclaimer applies. Blitzball is the sport borrowed from the ever beautiful game FFX and FFX-2. Any errors or fault, I claim as mine.

As always,

Myst-san.


	2. Spellbound

When Stars Collide 

I seriously considered some of your reviews, and thought if it would be better leaving this as a one-shot. I'm probably taking a risk investing furthur chapters in this, but I've gotten so many plot bunnies since then that it'd be a shame not to develop this furthur and see where this would take me. It'd be fun to see.

And thank you for the reviews. I surely wasn't expecting that. So thank you. And because of that, here you go, readers.

**Two.**

**Spellbound.**

* * *

><p>Roxas didn't know what compelled him to return to the same exact spot where they had first met, didn't know what made him return to the same place where they had bumped under the rain, and then parted ways. All he knew now was that he was right back here, three days later, and it was exactly the same time with the clock tower chiming in the distance away at a quarter past midnight, with <em>her <em>umbrella in his hand, and he still had no idea how in the world he was going to find her except for the fact he knew she stayed in the south dormitory.

The last time Roxas calculated, approximately three hundred female students stayed in the south dormitory. No such luck in digging a straw out of this haystack. Not in any chance.

Still, he was here, on _day three. _Being ridiculous as the notion as it was, he still found it only right to return the umbrella back to its owner.

On the first night, he had waited until one in the morning, passing time playing chess on his phone against Sora, whom he assumed was cheerily lying on his bed glued to his device, until he grew tired of checkmating his roommate thrice in a row. On the second night, he tried his luck again, and this time waited a little past more than one in the morning. He was thankful for Zexion buying him three cans of Coke to ensure him enough caffeine to last his energy throughout the night.

Night three.

His eyes combed the stadium, and every single seat among the bleachers that faced the Sphere.

No such luck.

Then again, it was only fifteen minutes past midnight.

Roxas sat back on the bleachers, cross-legged, and twirled the Blitzball in his hand.

He _could _always go back into the waters and care less about this. Toss a few more goals into the net and call it a day, or rather yet, night.

After all, it was just a goddamn umbrella. If news of this – the fact that he had even bothered waiting for three (not one, but three) nights out here for some random, unknown girl that he hadn't even had the intelligence to remember asking her name that would have definitely made this ten times easier, reached his Captain's ears, or any of his Blitzball teammates, he was pretty sure his ego, pride, and every inch of his reputation would sink further down the drain. He had his _star player _brand to keep up with, and he didn't want to be mistaken for some infatuated, lovesick idiot who could patiently wait three nights out for a _girl._

Not even a heart-shaped, ivory-faced, dole-eyed, porcelain-skinned, angelic-voiced female was an excuse for this.

_Okay, whoa, wait a minute, Roxas. _

Did he just came up with that string of adjectives to describe some girl he had only met for less than three minutes?

He stood up, kicked the chair before him in distressed anger and embarrassment himself, and heaved.

And for a minute, he actually thought he was being practical. Which part of what he was doing was actually sane enough? Nothing made sense aymore.

Slinging his duffel bag heavily behind his shoulder, the last of the aqua water beads tracing down his skin from his training awhile ago, meshed with the trickle of sweat down his temples, emanated from him a scent mixed of wood and peppermint. He rolled his eyes at his own insanity; he had definitely lost it. He was being ridiculous. And worse, it was just a _girl. _

He wanted to kick himself in the shin.

If Sora ever did anything like this and asked for his advice, he would definitely give his roommate to "fuck the girl and umbrella and just go home."

Noted – take your own advice next time.

Crap. And it was beginning to rain.

A fat droplet of water fell onto Roxas' cheek, and he tasted vaguely the salt, and a soft smile curled his lips. If there was anything he loved more than the water and being in the Sphere, it was the rain. It reminded him of his best element, where he thrived best in – the cold, the waves, the water, everything. Sometimes when the weather turned morose like that – it was perfect.

He made his way down rows and rows, not comprehending why his footsteps was heavy, as he passed the Sphere, down to the neighboring open gym where several acrobats and gymnasts were already packed and going home. These people trained harder than the Blitzers – they had an upcoming competition two days later, anyway. Twilight Academy had way too high a reputation for their sporting achievements to take training lightly around here.

He passed the gym, passed the locker rooms, and then stopped in his path.

She _did _mentioned she skated. How could he had forgotten?

But abit…

Abit?

Roxas decided he had time to take a detour, and he did. He bypassed the gym, the locker room, towards the nearby indoor skating rink where it was freezing as hell, and the temperature was dropping to an all-time low to preserve the iciness of the skating ground.

If there was any more ethereal place in Twilight Academy, he couldn't name any other.

He stopped, and listened.

They never stopped playing music around the rink, do they, he thought. Classical piano music, then soft rock ballads, then some Christmas carols, and he mused to himself that Christmas was _indeed _around the corner. Roxas didn't know he had stayed around the rink long enough to hear through transitions and transitions of songs after songs.

And then he heard a loud _plop, _and then a brutal _twank, _and a violent crash.

Shocked, Roxas moved quickly towards the source of sound – it sounded like an accident, and it was coming from the center of the rink where he could barely see with all that lights off except for that bare, luminicsent light from the sight –

Shit, it sounded like someone had taken a nasty fall.

Roxas leant against the barricade of the rink, and was tempted to yell in "Are you okay?", until he caught sight of a figure coming out of the darkness, _skating _out like she had glided on that ice forever, with such ease, and grace and –

If this was the same person who had fallen awhile ago, the silhouette didn't show any signs of faltering.

He couldn't see. But with her ponytail swishing around her as she cleared footwork and footwork one after another on the rink, as she twisted and swirled and glided across the rink in sub-darkness, Roxas was _entranced. _

Not even entranced, he was fascinated, captivated; _spellbound. _

He had heard of figure skaters in Twilight Academy to know there were only few and rare number of females who had made to this professional standard in the Academy; it was definitely not one of the easiest sport to excel in Twilight, and those little that made it had been selected and pre-screened with extreme caution and discrimination to ensure only the best got through.

But whoever this was, was way, _way _beyond that.

Roxas watched, affixated.

The music changed, and she followed every beat, every rhythm. Like she had been bred on ice forever, since an infant.

If Roxas felt comfortable, and in his skin, in water, this girl…this girl was more. She didn't just looked like loved being on ice, and was extremely comfortable on it. No, this girl looked like she was at home on ice, she looked like she belonged, like she branded the ice as her walking grounds. She practically glided on it, commanded the element beneath her, as if she was on fire, on wings.

Shifting his weight on one foot, he watched as her ponytail swished, and then her rubber band snapped in place, and her hair fell behind her like caressing waterfall.

Shit. Even in the dark, this dark silhouette was a _beauty. _Doubtless.

She couldn't look more than his age. Definitely not an instructor, or a professional from the region visiting the Academy to rent their rink.

She didn't even bother to stop and reach for her hair tie. With her tresses flying behind her like cape, she mustered enough grace to recover, and leapt through the air to slice her skates through into a full split in the air, and then landing back down onto the ice like she had done it a million other times. The shimmery ivory-pastel dress on her illuminated her figure, the drapery making her even more surreal against the darkness.

Roxas stood, stunned.

If angels existed...He was a believer.

He was so engrossed, watching her from a side, conquering and commanding the air and ice with her footwork and routine, that he couldn't ever snatch his eyes away from her. He hadn't even realized he had been holding his breath each time she leapt, for fear of her falling and breaking her limbs or any horrible scenario he could imagine. He watched, he worried for her safety, he heaved relief when she landed perfectly – awe, fascination, affixation – his eyes were an array of emotions, notably, absorption.

…And then his stupid phone had to go ring.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Distracted, she took a fall in mid-air, and he cursed himself. Torn between running on ice to help her, or just going to his bag and silencing his goddamn phone.

He decided the latter, and reached for his device.

_Stupid Sora. What the fuck? _

He had a missed call from that guy, and a text message from the mahogany-haired roommate that he was going to lock him out again if he didn't make it back into the dormitory by two in the morning.

…It was already one in the morning.

Had he been here, watching this girl, from afar, like some smitten, infatuated schoolboy, for nearly an hour already?

He was losing it.

But he didn't care.

Gaze swooping back to the rink, he was aware his phone had made the girl take another nasty fall. He had to apologize.

He made a dash towards the rink, readying for a string of apologies, and spontaneously working up possible excuses to why he was here, visiting the rink at this unearthly hour with his phone going off to break her concentration, when he realized she was _gone, _just like that.

He reached the darkness, thinking he would reach her.

But when he neared the center of the rink, where the darkness encroached him now, the girl was gone.

Perhaps he had scared her away.

Despite himself, Roxas cursed. Dammit.

In the distance, he made out a fading silhouette that was hurrying away.

He knew she was breaking the Academy's rule to use the sports facilities beyond half past twelve. That was their curfew; Academy's rule. The girl was probably afraid she had been discovered.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, Roxas. You and your stupid phone. Fuck Sora. _

He spotted traces of blood on the icy rink, and froze.

He had hurt her. Unintentionally, indirectly, but he had hurt her.

Shit.

He made a dash towards the exit, where he knew she was headed.

He needed to find her, to fix things, to make everything right.

"Wait!" He tried yelling.

But she was gone. The rink was empty.

"Wait, don't leave! Wait!"

Silence greeted him.

He raced after thin air, into the unknown. "Wait! Don't go!"

In the distance, he caught sight of someone, and hope lit in his eyes.

That glimpse of long hair flying about the silhouette kept him going.

He chased.

"Wait!"

She made a turn towards her right, towards the south dormitory now.

He stopped, catching his breath, but never snatched his gaze away.

…He blinked when the silhouette turned enough for him to catch a glimpse of her side portrait.

Shit.

She looked exactly like…

Like _her._

It couldn't be.

He stared at the umbrella in his palm now, still unreturned into the hands of the rightful owner.

Perhaps he was hallucinating, but when what he saw just now – that long, flowing hair, those illuminating blue-green eyes-

…It couldn't be. Or it could –

First he had taken her umbrella and made her run through the rain in nothing but an oversized sweater. Now he had gone to stupidly distract her from her training and make her fall.

Dammit.

He needed to find her.

And whoever she was had lied to him.

She certainly didn't skate just _abit. _

She was magic on ice.

**TSUZUKU**

* * *

><p>an;

My apologies for the lack of Roxas/Namine interaction here, if it disappointed. I'll make it up in the next chapter when they finally meet face to face again. Yep. This fic looks bound for a multi-chaptered ride, I'm guessing.

Review, review, review. I can't emphasize this enough how it inspires me so much.

myst-san.


	3. A temporary distraction

When Stars Collide

Three.

Distraction.

Third chapter. Whoo. Here you go, dear readers. Sorry it took a while.

* * *

><p>Namine winced as she shifted her right leg against her chair. She had barely managed to limp into class today without attracting too much attention – wearing faded jeans to cover her injury from last night. It wasn't that much big a deal. She had just bandaged a small strip of white cotton over her wound, but it still <em>hurt.<em>

Barely absorbing the textbook material she was staring blankly at, Namine cast a distracted glance at the window, and stared down at the basketball players that filled out the court on the scorching afternoon. She subconsciously touched the part of her jeans that concealed her wound, hoping she would be able to perform on the skating rink tonight even after the incident that happened last night…

…Last night.

She crossed her fingers and hoped against hope that she hadn't been reported to the school authorities that she had exceeded curfew, and by an hour by that. If Ms. Granger found out, she would be skewed on the roast pit, or even worse, be benched the next few trainings. She had been careful; she was sure she had ran the first thing she had suspected someone was watching her.

Probably another one of those girls around Twilight who liked to pick on her for no apparent reasons. Divulging her breaking the rules of the Academy would have been too good an opportunity for them to pass on.

Sighing, Namine dropped her head to her textbook, and resignedly pummelled a soft fist onto the pages of the blurred History essay she had been writing half-way.

She just hoped her injury could last her through training tonight.

* * *

><p>Roxas ran.<p>

It hadn't been that hard finding out her name, her class, and everything about her the moment he had learnt she was a figure-skater in the Academy. There were only that few girls would could make the cut for professional figure-skating in the Academy, and probably only one would had blond hair and cerulean blue eyes like hers.

He spent the entire night hauling past textbooks and library books from his shelves to dig out the Academy yearbook to find her photograph and name, right there, under the section of _Figure-skating championships _in the history of Twilight Academy. He could recognize that face and _god, those eyes, _anywhere, and her name right there, printed in bold, capital letters:

_Namine. _

He traced her form class immediately, which would perhaps explain why he was spending the following minutes right after his last class period racing across the school hallway to find _her_. He could care less if he looked like a disheveled mess right now. He usually never allowed anyone to see him in a state where his hair was less than the perfect way he would style it, never let his shirt untuck the way it is right now, sliding out of his pants – but he could, really, care less.

He had only one thing on his agenda. He needed to find her.

Stamina and speed were barely a problem. He was a Blitzball player, and he knew he could even last a mile beyond the Academy and still feel perfectly fine.

…That didn't explain why his pulse and heart was catching up faster than usual. Or why his cheeks were bloodied red.

Maybe it was this whole awkward opposite-gender thing again that always got to him. He wasn't like the Casanova his Blitzball seniors like Demyx and Axel were renowned for. Then again, he prayed to some random deity that he wouldn't exactly follow the clumsy klutzy ways of Sora either.

He counted down to the classrooms.

_4-5, 4-4, 4-3…_

He was here.

4-2.

He knew he was taking a chance. Who the hell would stay in class anyway after dismissal bell? But he just had to try.

He slid open the door, not even bothering to knock.

Looking like he just worked out in the gym ( his collared shirt unbuttoned on top, carelessly tucked out, stray strands of hair sticking out at randomest places), he barely caught his breath as he surveyed the room…

…And sucked in his breath.

A vision greeted him.

She was _here. _

Clad in a plain white top and faded jeans, she had opted for a pair of dress-down flops today. His heart turned over at the frail sight that greeted him. For some unknown reason, his heart _ached _watching her. She had fallen asleep reading her textbook, her arms coming around her hair, buried deep in the pages as she slept. She looked tired. And the way she sat didn't hide how her limp was hurting her.

She was the only one left in class.

Not like it made things easier to approach her, Roxas nearly rolled his eyes, if he wasn't too worried about how he was going to fix things today.

He hadn't meant to walk that loudly when he approached her. Apparently he had, for by the time he crossed the room in three strides and towered over her at his frame, she had arisen from sleep, rubbing her sleepy eyes, and then slowly watch her (with amusement, if he wasn't so occupied with worry at this impending situation and how he was going to handle it) as the same pair of cerulean eyes eventually grew huge at the sight that greeted her.

He winced inwardly.

Of course she would. Anyone would if some random stranger materialized in front of her post-sleep…and if that someone happened to be him, who now looked like he had just been in a wrestling match and sweated buckets.

"Er…Hey." He started awkwardly.

Not, a good start, by a mile. Not even by an inch.

He shifted uncomfortably on her feet as he waited for her to snap out of her trance. He was beginning to worry at the rate she was staring at him. Maybe she thought she was still dreaming. Maybe she was wondering if she had been stalked (oh heavens, no).

Then again, what he was doing wasn't an everyday normal thing around Twilight Academy. Hell, no.

"…Roxas?"

Namine stared. Just stared.

If she was dreaming, please don't let her wake.

He was standing right before her, towering over her at five foot eight. And he was, god, so good-looking. Did he really had to look that attractive? With those beautiful gorgeous blue eyes, pretty boyish face, unkempt hair – and god, the way he wore that uniform like he couldn't care less about the rules that governed the Academy?

What was the most popular, sought-after boy in the school doing here, standing less than a feet away from her, looking like…looking like a lost puppy with _those _eyes?

She felt childish, feeling like a fourteen year old girl all over again fangirling over some crush she had over someone she couldn't have, and worse, barely met.

She shook her head, to clear her daze. "I'm sorry. Roxas? But what are you doing here?"

_Don't look into his eyes, don't look into his eyes. _

She was sure she was going to be spellbound if she did that.

He extended his hand, revealing her umbrella.

Oh.

So…that was it.

At least he was gracious enough to remember.

She ran a hand over her hair, not knowing that her every gesture was making Roxas more and more uncomfortable on his feet. Not even the slightest bit aware the way she looked so flushed, so sleepy, so unfresh from slumber, was affecting Roxas with a clenching stomach, and churning heart.

_Fuck, stop beating heart, shut up. SHUT UP! _Roxas wanted to slap himself if he could. He looked around for a hole to bury himself if this went bad.

"Your…umbrella."

"Oh, thank you, Roxas."

_Oh my god. Couldn't you say something more substantial, Namine? _

Namine watched with arched eyes as Roxas placed the umbrella in her hand, and then proceeded to do something so unexpected, she was caught off-guard, and literally snapped herself back, further away from him.

Roxas had bent to her height, in crouching position, right before her.

And his eyes stared into hers.

_He was so close. _

"What…" She could barely breathe. "What are you doing?"

"Last night," Roxas blamed his heart for speeding up like a manic car, but he forgoed his pride, ego, and everything and decided to be man enough to own up, "Last night, that person in the skating rink. It was me. I-I…"

Okay, seriously, how hard was it to apologize?

_C'mon, Roxas. You did hurt her. _

She looked curious, and her eyes then understood. Oh.

This was harder than having Zexion pounding him with a thousand Blitzballs. Scratch that. He would go for any Blitzball torture under his Captain than dealing with anything remotedly related to girls right now.

Especially one that looked like her…

…It was bound to hurt his chest if the sight of her continued to clench his heart like that. He had no reason to explain why she had this effect on him…not for now, no.

"I'm sorry, Namine."

He breathed.

There, he said it.

Time froze to nothing, as the room spun around him. He simply remembered the way she cocked her head at him, and her lips slowly breaking into a small smile that nearly turned his heart over, it that was literally possible. How could anybody possibly looked _this _pretty, really? And whoever said God was fair in distributing beauty was lying – because here was an angel right before him, and it took an idiot not to even realize that.

Shit. _Quit smiling at me like that, Namine. _He wasn't sure if his heart could take anymore of this.

"Don't," he blurted out, "look at me like that."

She laughed, abit, "I'm sorry, Roxas." She carefully packed the umbrella into her satchel.

The room was quiet, for a minute, saved for the sound of her packing her textbook.

She stood up, and he followed suit. He still towered over her, when she was just five foot three.

Their eyes met.

"But, thank you, Roxas." She said, so softly, he had to lean in to hear. "And don't worry about it, it's okay. If you hadn't told me, I would have worried all day about someone reporting to the school authorities about me breaking curfew. That wouldn't have gone well at all."

He couldn't help it. He dropped his head, hiding a smile that scratched his lips. "You certainly didn't just skated _abit._"

"Oh, shut up," She teased, lightly, not helping the way her fingers came up to run through his hair, which stunned him how comfortable, how natural, everything felt, "You certainly didn't look like you Blitzed _abit, _too."

She was conscious of the way he was eyeing her knee every second as they spoke.

Raking a careless hand through her hair, she reassured him, "Don't worry about my knee. It's fine."

"You were bleeding." He said bluntly, not hiding the fact he was guilty as charged of having hurt her.

"It wasn't your—"

"Sit down." He ordered.

"Roxas—"

"Sit down, will you?" He sounded exasperated. God, were all women as stubborn as mule? Or was it just her?

"Roxas, I said I'm fine-"

"Sit."

One word, total command.

Giving in, Namine sighed, and sat back down on her seat.

Roxas knelt down, on one knee, and reached into his pocket to pull out a small first aid kit. He had apparently planned a visit to Dr. Kadowaki's infirmary this morning before school before visiting 4-2 and finding her. He wasn't about to let her off that easily, not yet. He wanted to fix things not just right, but remedied it entirely.

Chivalry came to him as second nature, and being a gentleman was no less a part of the way he was brought up.

Paying every minute attention to not hurting her, his hands gently rolled up her jeans, and his hands adeptly tended to her wound. She had only carelessly bandaged her injury without even a trace of antiseptic. It wasn't a big wound, she was right, but it was enough to cause her discomfort if she even attempted to skate tonight…

…Oh, shit.

"You're not skating tonight, are you?" He couldn't hide the tone of disapproval in his voice as he looked up at her, before snapping his gaze away.

The way she was looking down at him was...causing him too much uneasiness.

If he wasn't careful, he probably wouldn't muster that much will to tear his gaze away in the future if she continued holding his eyes like that.

What the hell was this woman doing to his senses; to him?

She was capable of testing his willpower and control, and he was growing aware of that.

"My competition's three weeks away—"

"You're skating." He didn't mean it as statement, more of a dressing down. The hell was she doing risking exacerbating her wound by going out in the rink with a limp?

"Yes." She admitted, cocking her head to the side. This time, it was her who avoided his demanding gaze. "Yes, I am."

"You're _limping, _Namine."

"Roxas, it's not going to affect me, I promise."

"And how do you know that?" He stood up after he was done tending to her wound, rolling down her jeans prior, treating her leg as if it was made of fine material about to break anytime. He was _so _attentive, so careful with her, it made her feel…how did one go about explaining that feeling of heart swelling and stomach clenching? It didn't make sense; nothing made sense now when it came to him, and she had barely met him.

"I'll make sure that."

He rolled his eyes, sliding his hands into his pockets. She could be as stubborn as a rock when she wanted to. "As you wish, Namine."

But if anything happened to her, he knew he would skew himself on a roast pit.

"You train too hard." He looked away into the distance, grumbling.

"And you worry too much." Her eyes twinkled, catching his pair again when he looked back, before avoiding her gaze almost immediately, remembering how much she affected his guts.

"Shut up." He took a step back, before uncomfortably shifting on his feet. He heard her packing her satchel, and standing up. Almost on instinct, he reached out to steady her balance as she forgot her injury and the weakness on her right leg.

"Sorry," she winced, from discomfort, and from causing him convenience.

"Shut up. Give me your bag."

He would have snatched it from her anyway if she didn't succumb to his order.

"Roxas," she sounded exasperated now, "are you really always this stubborn?"

"And are you always this frustrating?"

She sighed resignedly as he took her bag, and followed her to the exit, making sure she walked ahead of him first lest she needed support if anything – he would be three steps behind her making sure nothing happened.

She looked mildly surprised when he held open the door for her, though he was never aware of his action because Roxas wore chivalry like second skin.

Guys like that were a rare breed in the Academy…and coming from someone so sought-after in Twilight…no wonder every girl on campus wanted a piece of him.

Namine suppressed an inward sigh that involuntarily shook her. If she had hoped against hope that she had even stood a chance with this guy by her side – no matter how tender, how attentive, how gentle he had been with her awhile ago – she knew in reality she stood zero chance against those porcelain, photoshopped Barbie dolls in the Academy.

She stopped him before he could walk her all the way to the south dormitory where she stayed.

Kairi was in sight, waiting for her at the cafeteria.

"My friend's right there. Kairi. She'll take care of me. You don't have to walk me all the way, Roxas. You've done enough, okay?" She reassured him.

He still looked unconvinced. "Namine…" He started.

She couldn't help it. She pressed a palm gently against his chest, so unexpectedly, that Roxas stood rooted to the spot, a sudden urge to sway on his feet.

Her touch could unroot a tree. Seriously.

…Or maybe it was just him.

Just him. Right.

_Please don't ever let Sora see me in this state. _He knew he'd die of embarrassment for his inability to deal with girls.

Just this one. Just her.

"Thank you, though." she said, so softly again.

He could _really _learn to hate the way she was looking at him, like those eyes wanted to pierce something in him – did she really have to do that? Did she really enjoy causing his guts to wrench, his stomach to twist, his knees to sway?

"Your conscience is clear, okay, Roxas? So don't worry about feeling bad, because you've done nothing."

He snorted, but she stopped him before he could deny it.

"I'll be fine." She insisted, and then stepped away from him.

He couldn't explain that overwhelming urge to pull her back.

_Fuck. _That feeling that claimed him was akin to having lost a Blitzball match, or failed his players once again when he threw away a potential chance to score a goal. And Roxas hated feeling like he had lost something.

Which didn't explain anything, because right now, all she did was step away from him.

"You're still going to skate tonight, aren't you." He looked away, unable to explain the sullen look on his face.

Her only answer was a soft laugh, before the last thing he saw of her was a wave, and her tresses swaying around her as she made her towards the cafeteria.

She hadn't left him, though, not before leaning in to say in her usual voice so soft, he had to wonder if he really heard it, "I'll see you around again, right?"

She hadn't waited around for his answer, and was gone, just like that.

Again.

She had walked away, but not before pressing another lingering finger to his abdomen muscles prior.

Roxas now watched her back, disappearing into the crowd, and let out a whoosh of breath he wasn't aware he had been holding all this time.

He wanted to groan. Wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

He felt for his forehead. He had no idea why it was so _goddamn _hot in here suddenly.

This girl was affecting him for sure, and was way too much of a distraction for him lately.

He needed to watch himself.

He clenched his fist.

"_I'll see you around again, right?" _

No. No, she wouldn't. She was already enough distraction for him. He had too many other things to tend to – Blitzball, school, an impending Captaincy that he was going to inherit from Zexion, homework, an upcoming tournament…

…The last thing he needed on his mind was a girl.

Even if those cerulean eyes and – _god,_ that smile – continued to haunt him everytime he closed his eyes.

**TSUZUKU **

* * *

><p>an:

HEHEHE. I AM EVIL.

. review. they make me happy and they feed me better than chocolates.

i joke. but still.

**myst-san.**


End file.
